and Allan-a-Dale once, twice, and thrice.

"That's not enough," said Robin; "your gown is so short that you must
talk longer."

Then Little John asked them in the church four, five, six, and seven
times.

"Good enough!" said Robin. "Now belike I see a worthy friar in the back
of this church who can say a better service than ever my lord Bishop of
Hereford. My lord Bishop shall be witness and seal the papers, but do
you, good friar, bless this pair with book and candle."

So Friar Tuck, who all along had been back in one corner of the church,
came forward; and Allan and his maid kneeled before him, while the old
knight, held an unwilling witness, gnashed his teeth in impotent rage;
and the friar began with the ceremony.

When he asked, "Who giveth this woman?" Robin stepped up and answered in
a clear voice:

"I do! I, Robin Hood of Barnesdale and Sherwood! And he who takes her
from Allan-a-Dale shall buy her full dearly."

So the twain were declared man and wife and duly blessed; and the bride
was kissed by each sturdy yeoman beginning with Robin Hood.

Now I cannot end this jolly tale better than in the words of the ballad
which came out of the happening and which has been sung in the villages
and countryside ever since:

"And thus having end of this merry wedding,
The bride lookt like a queen;
And so they returned to the merry greenwood
Amongst the leaves so green."

CHAPTER IX

HOW THE WIDOW'S THREE SONS WERE RESCUED

Now Robin Hood is to Nottingham gone,
With a link a down and a down,
And there he met with the proud Sheriff,
Was walking along the town.

The wedding-party was a merry one that left Plympton Church, I ween; but
not so merry were the ones left behind. My lord Bishop of Hereford
was stuck up in the organ-loft and left, gownless and fuming. The ten
liveried archers were variously disposed about the church to keep him
company; two of them being locked in a tiny crypt, three in the belfry,
"to ring us a wedding peal," as Robin said; and the others under
quire seats or in the vestry. The bride's brother at her entreaty was
released, but bidden not to return to the church that day or interfere
with his sister again on pain of death. While the rusty old knight was
forced to climb a high tree, where he sat insecurely perched among the
branches, feebly cursing the party as it departed.

It was then approaching sundown, but none of the retainers or vi